


all the things you hate about yourself

by pansymione



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Eating Disorders, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Indian James Potter, James is a Total Sweetheart, Kissing, M/M, One Shot, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, but only in retrospect, it's just mentioned and doesn't take on a big role, no beta we die like men, reggie is not in the best place mentally, what can i say the jegulus void on ao3 needs to be filled
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:33:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27562333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pansymione/pseuds/pansymione
Summary: James makes it his mission to turn Regulus' every flaw into another thing he loves about him.
Relationships: Regulus Black/James Potter
Comments: 6
Kudos: 257





	all the things you hate about yourself

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jegulusiara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jegulusiara/gifts).



> All the triggering topics in the tags are talked about in retrospective, but i still urge you not to read if you may be upset or triggered by them!
> 
> This is literally just for my self indulgence and bc I can't go a day without thinking about hurt/comfort jegulus goodbye, hope you enjoy

It was Saturday night, the fire in the backyard was slowly going out and he was shivering. He moved towards the heat, watching the blanket Sirius forcibly gave him so it didn't catch on fire. He was shivering. Why was he shivering?

Drinking probably wasn’t a good idea. He was in one of those moods again, the ones where he questions every good thing that has happened to him, wonders how he can be worth anything at all. He stared at the embers, furrowing his brows. Why wasn’t he ever enough? Why were all the things he did and said never enough? His mother always told him that respect was something he needed to gain. So he tried, he did everything she said, he always replied with the right thing, he always sat in silence when he was expected to. He never cried when she raised her voice or raised her hand. He never tried to stop her when she made Kreacher burn his fingers on the stove again. Why wasn’t he enough? Obedient enough, respectful enough, quiet enough, her son enough. Enough to be loved.

Loved. How he hated that word. Somewhere deep down he knew Walburga wasn’t capable of love, but he still craved it. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever been loved, in all his life. It was a foreign concept to him. Unconditional love. Love. To love a person. He’d heard it said, he’d read it, so many times, yet he didn’t know if he ever would feel it. Experience it. The idea that someone loves you enough to be kind, be understanding, to not leave you the moment things get bad. He has forgiven Sirius, really, he has, but he can’t get over the feeling that maybe if he loved him a bit more, like a brother should, he wouldn’t have left him there. 

He was out now and he really should just stop overthinking and being a nuisance to everyone including himself, but he’s drunk and sad and drowning in his own self pity.

He wondered if he would have ever gotten out if he hadn’t tried taking his own life.

He wouldn’t have. Mystery solved.

Sirius would never think of him as anything other than a bigoted puppet of his own parents, not until he saw him hold a wand to his chin and stutter, trying to say the spell, so numb and resigned not even tears bothered to appear in his eyes. 

But that was months ago and he really should stop. Stop thinking, stop wondering, stop being so damn paranoid all the time. What-if’s didn’t make him feel any better, they never did. They just left him with all those possibilities floating in his head, the knowledge that he would never be enough. Not brave enough to be a good person, not rebellious enough to stand up to his parents, not alive enough to have any friends.

Not… he wasn’t sure what he lacked to be so unloved, but he must be lacking something, since no one did. Love him, that is.

“Hey Baby Black.” A mess of black hair walked past him and suddenly he was pressed to a very muscular shoulder. He sighed, hoping his expression didn’t match the emotional turmoil inside him.

“Hey James.” He thanked gods for his voice sounding fairly normal. At least it didn’t crack.

“What’s wrong? You never let it slip when I call you Baby Black.” Potter raised one eyebrow at him, a playful smile on his lips. His eyes lingered on them for a second too long and he looked up quickly, schooling his expression.

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“Come on, tell me. We’re all friends here, right?” And Regulus desperately wanted to say no, but couldn’t. He was living at the Potter’s house and they did spend all of their time together, either working on the garden or playing something. And somehow Potter always ended up shirtless. But that's besides the point.

“Why do you care so much?” He looked down again and started playing with his blanket again, his hands trembling. He really was cold, so he tried acting his best like wasn’t.

“You look cold.” Regulus wanted to groan “Here, have my hoodie.”

He openly gaped at James, probably looking very dumb, as he took off his black hoodie and gestured him to raise his hands. And Regulus did, feeling the most confused he’s ever felt, until James put the hoodie on him. He pulled it down gently, Regulus’ bottom lip catching on the rim. His eyes wandered down to it, but he looked up as quickly and started pulling his hair from the hood. It has gotten pretty long, Regulus thought, as James gently brushed it out of his face, fingers grazing his temple as he hopelessly tried to hook them behind his ears.

“They’re too thick, they won’t fit.” Regulus watched James smile at his own idiocy and finally give up, letting the black strands fall down on his face. He shook his head a bit and they naturally stayed back. 

“I can never learn how to deal with hair. I’ve never had mine that long.” 

“It’s barely past my chin.” Regulus looked away, suddenly very aware of how close they sat. “You never answered.”

“Oh.” He felt James shift, barely. “You looked like you were brooding.”

“I don’t-” He sighed, looking at James, who was smirking “Just a little bit. I get like that when I drink. Nothing bad, just. Thinking.”

“You also speak more than usual. I like that.” He added before Regulus had a chance to overthink his words. “You always look sad, though. And serious. I like to see you smile.”

Regulus just hummed, not knowing what the appropriate response is. 

“You really scared Sirius, you know.” He tensed up, a flurry of emotions going through him in a matter of seconds. Before he could even respond, James kept talking. “And the rest of us. I don’t think I’ll ever forget how… empty you looked, that night. I just wanted you to know that we cared. We cared about what happened to you then because you were Padfoot’s little brother. He talked about you a lot, especially in the first years. And we care now because you’re our friend and you matter to us. You’re my little baby Black.”

Regulus would be lying if he said he didn’t feel like crying. But he’d just been thinking about how nobody cared, about how he longed for anyone to care and James just came and shuttered his little world into pieces. He cared. And it felt so, so alien to him.

“Reggie? You okay?”

Regulus looked up to see a very concerned James, all furrowed brows and worried eyes. His brain shut down for a second, because merlin, he was beautiful. His chocolate eyes, naturally tan skin, high cheekbones, messy hair that seemed to never be able to stay in place. And his lips, reddish and soft, and fuck he was probably staring and James asked him a question, but he couldn’t not think about them and-

James was smiling. Regulus, confused, backed away, expecting him to start teasing, but James just caught his chin and made him look up, embarrassed and blushing.

“You could have just said that you wanted to kiss me, silly.”

Regulus wanted to say no, really, because he hadn’t even realised that that was something he could want, but in the next second James’ lips were on his and his hand was grabbing his waist so he wouldn’t topple over and his other hand was in his hair, grabbing the back of his neck gently. His lips were soft and warm, unmoving, unsure, before Regulus finally realised that he should be doing something, anything, and closed his eyes, moving his shaking hand to James’ arm. He started moving his lips, slowly, breathing through his nose when his head started feeling dizzy. James’ hands traveled all over his back, impatiently, and soon the kiss turned into making out. Regulus discovered that the want, the heat in his belly and his chest were far more powerful than his shyness and it was so easy to lose himself in the feeling, so easy to forget about anything but the boy in front of him. He gasped into his mouth when James’ tongue touched his bottom lip, but complied, letting him in, and merlin was that a new feeling. James tugged on his hair, making him whimper and finally wrap his arms loosely around his neck. James didn’t waste a second to manhandle him onto his lap, only breaking the kiss for a second.

A small part of him wished they weren’t both plastered when he was having his first kiss, with James Potter of all people, but it was so nice and intoxicating, he couldn’t really complain. 

James’ hands were sneaking under the hoodie and his borrowed shirt, big and rough from five years of quidditch, cold against his heated skin. He firmly grabbed his waist and pulled away, licking his lips.

“Wanna go to my room?”

Regulus woke up under a blanket and a big, tan arm, entirely too hot and too sweaty for his comfort. He turned his head and squinted at the mess that was James’ hair, sticking out everywhere from sleep and the way Regulus’ hands tugged on it most of the night. He pushed the arm away, knowing that James slept like the dead, and stumbled out of the bed. Thankfully, it was barely light outside, so no one could have seen them. The looks of it didn’t leave much space for excuses and he’d rather not have to endure Sirius’ tantrum at such an early hour. 

Dressed in the shirt he wore the day before and boxers, he slipped out of the room and after a short trip for clothes and a towel, locked himself in the bathroom. He avoided the mirror, brushed his teeth and then went straight for the shower, turned it on and sighed as the hot water scalded his skin. He always took burning hot showers, no matter if he was cold or warm. It was an old habit from Grimmauld and his mother. She always punished them by bathing them in near boiling water if they didn’t behave. She was especially cruel if he didn’t eat everything and didn’t obey the rules, which happened a lot. He was a small child. Not just short, he was truly tiny, either from the inbreeding or heavy drinking his mother didn’t stop when pregnant with him. He was small, short, skinny, and she always fed him more than he could hold in so that he’d grow and be a respectable young man, which instead made him throw up and get punished. He still had a tricky relationship with food, he still was unnaturally small for a seventeen year old and he still punished himself, even when she wasn’t around.

He heard the door open and immediately looked behind the curtain. James was approaching the sink, still sleepy, yawning every two seconds.

He was kind of adorable.

Regulus quickly finished washing himself, turned off the water and wrapped himself in a towel. James hummed when he walked up to him, spitting out the toothpaste. His eyes drifted to Regulus’ chest and the boy put on his clothes quickly, suddenly uncomfortable.

“What’s wrong?” James caught his hands and held it, brushing his thumb against his skin soothingly.

“I don’t know. I’m just… not sure how anyone can like how I look.” He mumbled, averting his eyes.

“I was only looking because you’re so red. I was worried you’d burned yourself. It was pretty hot when I came in.” He pulled him closer, their hips together. “I saw enough of you tonight to safely say that I like how you look. A lot.”

Regulus blushed, finally looking at him. James’ expression was so full of honesty and so caring. Before he had enough time to overthink it, he put a hand on James’ cheek and kissed him softly, not expecting James to start kissing the corner of his lips, his cheek, his jaw, the side of his throat. He walked him over to the mirror, shifted him so he was standing behind him and kept sucking at his neck, pressing him into the counter. Regulus had the perfect view of himself in the mirror, not fogged over since it was charmed, so he closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling. The other side of his throat was already marked from last night, so they couldn’t get even more obvious and he certainly wouldn’t make James stop. 

When he pulled away, Regulus nearly whined from the loss.

“I have an idea.” Chocolate eyes were staring at him intently from the mirror and Regulus nodded, feeling James’ hands wrap around his middle. “You’re going to tell me one thing you dislike about yourself and I’ll tell you why I love it.”

Regulus wanted to, frankly, leave, but James was holding him tightly and looking at him pleadingly like a puppy, so he just turned his head to kiss him quickly and stared right back at the mirror.

“I don’t know where to start…” He mumbled, and nearly jumped when James’ breath ghosted on his neck. “My skin, I guess? I look I’ve never seen the sun, every scratch or bruise shows up like I’ve been ran over by a fucking Hippogriff. It’s so hard to hide them.” He furrowed his brows. He hadn’t really meant to say that, but James didn’t mention it. Instead, he sucked another hickey on his shoulder, hands traveling down to his hips.

“It also makes the bruises I make stand out more. And, honestly, it makes you look like a vampire prince, it’s kind of sexy. Your hands look so pretty when they hold mine, don’t you think?”

Regulus turned around and kissed him deeply, sighing into his lips when his hips were pressed between James’ and the counter. “Can you shut up and let us make out now?”

“Absolutely not. Come on, at least one more thing.” He smiled, thumb brushing Regulus’ cheek.

“I don’t know. My eyes? They’re slightly different because of all the inbreeding, mother hates them. Says I didn’t turn out alright, as if it was my fault this family has a thing for fucking their cousins.” 

“For the record, your eyes are one of my favorite parts of you.” James whispered, looking at him so intensely, Regulus barely suppressed a shudder.

“One of?” He teased, letting James push him up so he was sitting on the counter right next to the sink. He wrapped his legs around James’ and pulled him even closer.

“There are many things I like about you. Like the sounds you make when I do this.” He smiled, gently grabbed a handful of Regulus’ hair and pulled his head back, to gently suck on his Adam’s apple, making him moan quietly and squirm. 

“I hate you so much.” Regulus pushed him away, smiling openly.

“You love me.”

He couldn’t disagree, so he just pulled him closer and kissed him again and again until Euphemia called them down to breakfast.


End file.
